He had turned his talent into a very profitable art The art of death. For a fee he killed He was more than an assassin and less than d mur- derer. For he did kill with passion, but never pleasure He killed in the name of mankind to free his victims from lies
For Sanctuary had taught Cade the most valuable of all lessons, it had taught him the truth In all its pain and agony, poverty and despair, was written the LAW, in ironclad runes of blood
And the LAW was one simple word Hell . .
For the world was not a hell, he knew that, it was the hell, the only true hell A man lived a life of pain, no matter who or what he was, the punishment was daily When he died, he either went somewhere better, or his spirit was annihilated for all time. It was simple really: the good, they went to their just desserts; the evil could sink no further, so they were destroyed.
All this ran through his thoughts as he stared down at the place he hated most. He was little concerned. He believed he had only killed the genuinely good or the genuinely evil, never those in-between. Now he was going to kill his brother's murderer and he was worried. What if the killer was neither good nor evil? What if he had not made the final choice -could Cade kill him then? After all, he was no soldier like his unknown father, butchering because someone told him to. He was very careful in accepting contracts, very careful in his death-dealing that whomever he brought the final moment to was either good or evil, either free or doomed. What if ...
"Enough!" he cried out loud. Somewhere in the Maze TerreFs family waited in fear, in fear for their lives and in agony over the dead man they had loved so much. Cade would protect them. Terrel would have wanted that, but Cade would do more; he would use them as he had always used anyone he needed. Use them to find the murderer and for the first time in his long career he would not kill cleanly or quickly. No matter who had to die, or why, this time Cade would have vengeance!
He knelt down and cleared a space on the ground at his feet. He withdrew a dagger and began to make marks in the dirt. Here a slash for Tempus; there a curve for Ischade, others for Molin Torchholder, Jubal, Chenaya, the Stepsons, the PFLS, the Rankan 3rd Commando, Enas Yorl ... He had run out of room. Sanctuary had managed to become the most dangerous place in the empire. It was truly hell's own capital. And all its demon princes were fighting for its bitter rule.
His information was incomplete. He could barely believe Tempus would stay here with the whole empire falling apart around him. And if Tempus went ... he scratched out the marks for the Rankan 3rd Com- mando, and the Stepsons. He shook his head; it helped, but not by much.
Then he scratched in a fish eye. Beysibs. Now what the hell were they? Were they like other men? What happened when they died? Too, too many questions.
If it had been just magic, or men ... but there were gods here now. All sorts of godly manifestations had taken place here, though his people had claimed that things had quieted down of late. Hardly a comforting thought- He gripped the handle of the dagger tightly. It was all too unclear, too many random factors. Even Cade could not keep himself hidden from the gods, frauds though they were. Still, part of him hoped the trail would lead to one of these gods- He had only ever killed one obscure demigod.
To cast down one of the great ones, those masters of the great lie, ah, now that would nearly make Terrel's horrid death worthwhile.
There was no point in going in quietly; this town was a catastrophe just waiting to happen. Why, any of these-he ground his foot into the dirt erasing the names-could be his target. Or all of them. Many of them would have the ability to find him; some would certainly know his name, others would be intelligent enough to make the connection between him and Terrel. No, he would simply advertise his presence and let the killers come to him, or others approach him with information. He stood up.
"This is going to be messy," he said to the empty land around him. But he would slip into the city later tonight and check in with his people before he revealed himself.
"I'm coming home," he whispered.
Cade took another sip of the wine, his black eyes searching the face of the man across from him at the oaken table. Targ was a good man. He had never failed a mission, but he was dangerous. Cade would have to be very careful how he used this one, very careful.
"So," Cade said, "I was right about Tempus and the others. Still, there are quite a few with power remaining."
"The streets are safer than even a few months ago," Targ answered, his thick hand digging in his beard. 'The coalition seems to be holding, at least for now."
Just then the door to the house was opened. A young woman dressed in a fine gown and a dark shawl walked in.
"I told you not to go out at night," Targ said, though his voice carried no concern.
"I was just checking on Sarah," she answered, staring unabashedly at Cade, who simply stared back. Targ waved a hand at Cade.
"Our employer," he said. Marissa stood by the door, a little unsure of how to react.
"Sit," Cade said, watching as the woman seated herself, near Targ, but not too near. So, Cade thought to himself, she fears him. I wonder how much she knows. "Targ," he said aloud, "says you have done well. My brother's wife trusts you."
"Yes." She nodded. "She and I have become friends, lord." Cade smiled slightly at the title but he didn't correct her.
"She doesn't know that you work for me."
"No, lord, she waits for you, knowing that you will, ah, help."
"Understand one thing." Cade's voice was harsh. "I have come for ^enge, nothing more."
"I think Sarah understands, lord."
"And tell me how does it feel to be the Lady Marissa?"
"Better"-she smiled-"than it did to be the slave girl Donan." Cade did not answer her smile. Disguised as an old merchant, he had bought the girl's freedom. Then two months ago he had sent her here with Targ to set up a base for him. It was no accident that the house next to this was his sister-in-law Sarah's.
He tasted the wine while the other two waited for him to speak. Cade nodded his head once. Good, they had done well, the girl in particular- She hardly resembled the anemic creature he had freed so many months ago. She had been a find, that one. Able to speak court Rankene, and read and write: a rare find
And she was strong. He could sense that in people. After what this girl had been through it was surprising she retained her sanity. Cade had seen the scars that covered her back and thighs. He liked her; she was good and if he didn't need her he would free her from life's black curse, but first ...
"Some here might still know me," he said. "Terrel did not hide the fact that it was I who bought his house, and his shop." He stood up. "There- fore I see no reason for further subterfuge on my part." He picked up his sword belt and buckled it about his waist.
"Tomorrow," he addressed the two, "I will ride into town at dawn. I will go straight to Terrel's home. Let those who might care know that I am here. You two must remember: You do not know me, I do not know you. Since Lady Marissa is a friend of Sarah's, and I will be staying at her house, we will have plenty of opportunity to get to know one another."
He smiled and turned to go.
"Ah, one last thing, Targ." The mercenary just looked up. "Tomor- row, go to the guild. Get a few guards for this house, especially a good bowman. From now on I want both houses under constant surveillance."
"You expect someone to make a move?" Targ asked. Cade shrugged.
"If they do not, I will." And with that he was gone- Targ got up and locked the door. He could see no trace of Cade in the night, and if he couldn't, no one he knew could.
"Well, what do you think?" he said.